


Say You're Mine

by VerreXIV



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Humiliation, Multiple Warriors of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Named Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Sexual Tension, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:54:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27772582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VerreXIV/pseuds/VerreXIV
Summary: Things go bad for the warrior of light during a fight with Zenos and poor choices  and dramatics follow.
Relationships: Zenos yae Galvus/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 37





	1. Coated in Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very very new to fic writing, so don't be too harsh on me! I had no idea what to title this as I've only referred to it as the stab-fic, so I used a line from the song See You Bleed by Ramsey.

Verre was tired of running. Her arms ached and her lungs felt like they were on fire. The fight had been dragging on for what felt like an age and the odds were now tipping away from her favor. Most of her effort now was being spent in putting a safe distance between herself and her frustrating enemy, but for every ilm she retreated, he advanced.

The dancer’s strength lay in ranged attacks and knowing this, Zenos was very careful to deny her the opportunity. A flourish slash crashed against one of the chakrams held by the warrior of light before she could throw it, vibrating the metal and weakening her grip just enough that it slipped from her grasp, ringing out with a loud clatter as it hit the stone far away. As her eyes followed the discarded weapon, a second impact she did not see immediately followed and she felt the wind knocked out of her. As she stumbled, she felt a strange pull of tension at her core. Curiously, Zenos standing before her had stopped moving as well, save for his labored breathing. The strange still moment they shared was consumed by the pounding in her head and the thunderous beating of her heart filling her ears. For a fraction of a moment Verre felt relief that the exhausting chase had ended, but the reason why still had yet to be determined. She followed the path of her enemy's single outstretched arm down to his hand in which he still held his katana. Hesitantly, her eyes continued down the length of the blade to the point where it connected with her stomach. Verre made a small gasp and little jolts of pain sparked through her. Surely her mind was misreading the scene, it didn't make sense. Her head began to spin and her hands went to the sword, awkwardly expecting them to pass through the metal as if it were an illusion. They did not.  _ No this isn't real… this is not what it looks like. _

The still moment continued, measured in the thunderous beating of her heart. Daring to test another shaky inhale, she was rewarded with white hot pain radiating from her center and dizziness flooding her head. At a loss, her fingers fluttered across the blade and settled on gripping it.  _ This isn't right. This has to come out.  _ A weak attempt was made even more impossible when slippery blood started to color the exposed length of the katana beneath her fingers. The added sight of wet streaks of crimson made her head swim. The warriors arms began to feel numb and she knew she did not have the strength to force it away, or the clarity of mind to decide if removing it would do more harm than good.

Somehow, Verre had nearly forgotten Zenos was still there in front of her until she heard quiet breathy laughter that drew her attention away from the wound for the first time. Manic ecstacy filled his expression like a fire lighting him from within as his laughter escalated. He threw his head back and inhaled deeply, letting his breath out in a pleasured sigh. “Ohhh yes!” he nearly purred, “Thank you, my dearest friend.” Every word was drawn out ridiculously, clearly still riding the high of battle. “This is  _ truly _ the most exquisite pleasure I could have ever known!” Zenos continued speaking in his dramatic, practically lewd tone, but Verre definitely did not care what he had to say right now, the rushing sound of blood in her ears helping to drown him out. The pain at her core began to come to the front of her senses and she realized in horror that her back was now burning too.  _ Did it… did it go through me??  _ Fresh panic began to control her actions, Verre sent erratic bursts of healing magic into her abdomen around the blade. She was not currently equipped for healing magics and with the pain preventing her ability to focus, the attempts were useless. Zenos watched her panicked actions through half lidded eyes with a smile, amused by her struggle.

Her numbing legs faltered slightly and she dipped forward, one bloodied hand reaching out to steady herself, finding only Zenos’ chest as he fully turned himself towards her. The clear downside of him being willing to catch her fall was that he was now much closer to her. Zenos did his part to support her weight by maintaining his grip on the sword and took a knee before her. The change of angle as the hilt dipped downward caused Verre to cry out as her knees buckled and searing pain flooded her. Her grasping fingers painted even more of her blood across Zenos’ metal pauldron.

He was so close to her now, which is exactly what he wanted. Zenos monopolized her line of sight entirely so that he was now all she could see. The warrior of light would not be allowed to forget it was he who defeated her and he would savor her every final moment knowing this.

Under the curtain of her hair his angelic face stared up at her, a cruel smile on the edge of his lips. He was so close to her now she could feel his breath against her face. His free hand she did not see him raise came to lay against the side of her face, the tips of his fingers threaded through her hair. Zenos closed the distance between them and pressed his lips to hers, in a gentle kiss. Under his fingers he could feel tension in her body as she wanted to pull away from his closeness, but there was not much as she could do to resist him in her current state.

Her lips moved softly against his, her voice not quite forming words. Though, to beg or curse him, Zenos did not know.  _ Oh how he wanted to hear those sounds pass her lips!  _ This fleeting thought planted an uncomfortable seed of doubt in his mind. How soon after her life was extinguished would the rush of blood fade into the familiar aching numbness? Angered by his own hesitation Zenos pushed the intrusive thoughts down and focused on the warrior in his arms. Here and now, this was more than heaven itself could offer.

“Look at me, look at me…” he whispered soft and encouragingly. He was staring intensely at her, remaining nose to nose in closeness. Zenos watched her eyes focused slightly brighter than they had been a moment earlier and he smiled at the pleading panic he found in them. Without warning he cruelly twisted the katana in a short swift motion and buried the rest of the length into her at an upwards angle. Verre let out an animalistic howl, droplets of blood from her mouth spattered across the porcelain pale cheek in front of her and lost consciousness.

He caught her as her legs inevitably gave out and she collapsed weakly into his arms. Zenos repositioned her so that she was face up, supported at her back by only one arm. With the other, he withdrew the blade from her body in an expert motion, as if it were no different than unsheathing it from his revolving holster. Even unconscious, her body reacted to the new pain with a spasm and blood began to run out from her in a weak stream, spattering across his armored foot. Closing his eyes, Zenos took a deep breath and released a slow sigh of pleasure, taking a moment to savor the delicious feeling coursing through his veins. With a look that could almost be affection, he stared at the face of the dying woman in his arms. As the moments passed, the memory of the hollow feeling reappeared in the back of his mind. Maybe she didn't have to die this time, he mused with a frown. Perhaps if his dear friend were to live after tasting such thorough defeat she would fight even harder knowing what was at stake.


	2. Stronger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warrior of light doesn't know why Zenos spared her life, but she feels obligated to be thankful for it. Now with less violence and more humiliation!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a fan of having to title things :/ this may have one or two more chapters depending on how I feel about chapter three, the last one is already done.

Soft mechanical beeping called out to Verre through the fog of an exceptionally hazy sleep. Agonizing, aching numbness greeted her as she tried to reposition her limbs. Memory of the event that led her to this situation came to her gradually, but even then she was in no rush to open her eyes. By all right she should be dead and yet she wasn't, so whatever this place was, at least she was alive to experience it. The passing of time meant nothing to her as she savored the feeling of the softest sheets she had ever felt wrapped around her skin.

Some time later, Verre found herself waking again, this time the discomfort she felt could not be ignored. She needed to drink something and her back was aching. As her eyes opened, the warrior of light found herself in a small medical room of subtle, yet undeniably Garlean design. Scanning the area, she was pleased to find a cup and pitcher neatly arranged on a metal tray at the side of her bed. Slowly, with all the strength she could muster, Verre shifted her upper body higher onto the pillows of her bed. It was an agonizing task as any movement involving her midsection sent bolts of pain and nausea shooting through her. The laborious task seemed to trigger more beeping from the machines that she was now realizing were connected to various points on her arm and abdomen. A light above the doorway began to blink softly.

The same door across the room opened almost immediately and a face Verre did not recognize peeked in but just as quickly it was shut again, followed by the hurried sound of footsteps leading away. Verre did not let the interruption deter her from her goal. After fighting through waves of pain so great that they nearly caused her to black out more than once, she finally reached a sitting position and consumed the entire water pitcher greedily.

When the door opened again, as was to be expected, it was Zenos who walked in. If it wasn't for his impossible stature, she might not have recognized him in the simple, well fitting clothes. This was the first time Verre had seen him out of armor and immediately her face felt way too hot. This was off to a bad start. The Garlean crossed the small room in only a few steps and now that they were alone together, the space felt nightmarishly intimate. He positioned a chair to one side at the foot of the bed and settled into it, feet crossed at the ankles. He did not speak and his intense stare, as always, was empty and unsettling.

Verre did not realize she was holding her breath as she stared transfixed by the way his silk hair was slipping over his exposed collarbones. This close she could also see the faint white line of scar at the side of his neck. It should have been much more obvious but maybe Garlean medics had their benefits.  _ Good news for me.  _ The warrior was glad to note a couple fresh bruises on the visible areas of his skin and a single stitched gash across his hand. At the very least he hadn't escaped their fight without some injuries of his own.

Verre maybe should have been afraid or angry after being impaled by him, but instead she felt frustrated, and confused. Death was never far from her mind in battle, but to have come so close made her feel weakness like she had never felt before. If roles were reversed there was no doubt in her mind she would not have shown him the same mercy. That thought left her feeling grateful to him, which was a hard thing to come to terms with. If she had just been stronger in that moment he would finally be dead and she wouldn't be in this situation with these conflicted feelings.

The longer their silence stretched on, the more his presence grated on her nerves. 

“Why am I not dead?” Verre demanded weakly, having had enough of the dreadful silence. She wanted to sound stronger but using her voice felt strange and there was an uncomfortable metallic taste at the back of her throat that threatened to make her gag.

“Should I have left you to die, then?” Zenos tilted his head, clearly amused by this thought. He let more silence pass before he chose to answer her question. “I thought perhaps you might be grateful for it.” Another pause. “You have the opportunity to see those friends of yours again when you walk away from here. To remember all that it is you fight for.” There was a condescending smirk on his face that suggested he was rather pleased with himself. “I am but simply planting a seed, one of which I intended to enjoy the fruit of, come harvest.”  _ Oh. I see. _ He insisted on sculpting her into his perfect rival, no matter how many tries it took.

“Great.” Verre tensed her jaw and folded her hands over her knees. “So you can just leave now and I'll be gone as soon as I can stand up. Thanks.” She fixed her gaze on a point of the wall across the room. It was much easier to have this conversation when she didn't have to look at him directly. From the first moment he revealed his face to her, the attraction she felt towards him felt like a vice grip around her heart, overwhelming her with sickening guilt. At least there was no need to keep track of his movements now that she was sure he wasn't about to kill her. For now.

“Actually, I thought I would enjoy a moment of your company while I have you here. Such a rare thing it is. We have never had much time to talk.” 

Verre almost laughed out loud. 

“You like to do most of the talking for me.” She was twisting the sheets through her fingers with a white knuckle grip. It was taking all the control she had to not lash out in anger while interacting with such an insufferable monster.

Zenos chuckled almost silently and shifted his position to lean in. “Ah do forgive me friend, I find that I get a bit… carried away, in your presence. It is such an intoxicating feeling to have someone with whom you can see eye to eye, after finding myself without equal for so long. To have someone who understands you. Our parallels are a thing of beauty designed by the gods themselves.” Out of the corner of her eye she noted that terrible half lidded smirk on his face again, an expression Verre was becoming far too familiar with. His presumptiveness was absolutely repulsive to her. She rolled her eyes, still refusing to make eye contact, but chose not to argue with him. His wrong ideas about who she was were not her problem in the slightest. As usual, her lack of involvement in the conversation did not deter him from pressing onwards.

“Ah, it seems we have proven my point as I have nearly forgotten my purpose for coming here.” Zenos stood from the chair and Verre tracked his steps to a nondescript cabinet against the wall. There was some sort of number pad on the front, and after a combination was pressed, it opened to reveal the gear she had been wearing during their battle, neatly folded in a stack. “Your things are here, ready for you, whenever you wish to leave.” The Garlean reached inside and with a delicate motion retrieved her chakrams from atop the pile. Zenos carried them back to the chair and retook his seat. The blades looked as small as a child's toy in his enormous hands, but they were still weapons and Verre was now tracking his every movement.

“Such a curious weapon,” he mused as he examined the circular blades. “They seem more of a novelty than an instrument of battle. Did you truly believe this would be the weapon with which you would defeat me?” He smirked, testing the edge against the pad of his thumb.

Verre was grinding her teeth now, watching his hands. “Sorry. Next time I'll bring a gun.” He was clearly trying to get under her skin with these petty insults and it was working. Was defeating her not enough?

“I do hope you are joking.” For once the smirk left his face, and he actually looked disappointed. “But if that is what it will take for you to fight me at your best, you are welcome to try.” He redirected the conversion back to the chakrams. “Despite being quite an ineffective strategy, it was a pleasure to see the spirit with which you moved across our battlefield. Only one with a true lust for the sport of it would dance in the blood of their enemies. Whatever weapon you settle on, do not deprive me of the chance to see you struggle against my blade.”  _ Surely he didn't mean it to sound so...  _ Incredulously, Verre risked a glance at his face and found him still staring at her, practically glowing with passion. Her stomach twisted into knots and she looked away from him once again, glaring viciously at nothing. It was becoming apparent to her that he knew exactly what buttons to push in order to draw out her rage.

“I'm definitely going to cut your head off next time, don't worry.”

Zenos set the chakrams aside softly as he stood up from the chair to sit on the edge of her bed. Still seated upright, Verre tried to regain some of the distance between them but in making the effort to do so, fireworks of pain flared back into her abdomen. He was so close now that she couldn't even avoid looking at his beautiful, terrifying face. Finally, as she should have been from the start, she was afraid. Frozen in place, she did not react when he reached for her arm. In his gentle but firm grasp, he examined the healing cuts and bruises on her flesh idly, fully aware of how tense she had become.

“Allow me to make something very clear to you, hero.” The tone in his voice was suddenly much less playful, his intense stare became even icier. “I would be quite unhappy to find I have misplaced my faith in you. I expect nothing but your best next time we meet in combat.” Having wrapped around her arm, his large fingers began pressing into a bruise, gradually digging deeper into her flesh as he spoke until Verre nearly cried out. “If this raging fire in you ever disappears, I will bathe us in the blood of everyone you hold dear if that is what it would take to bring back that spark. Do not make that mistake, my friend.” 

Verre was infuriated with being manhandled by him as if she were no more than a replaceable toy doll, but his grip on her was too firm to free herself. Only when he decided he was done, did he release her. “You won't live long enough to see that day.” Verre hissed through clenched teeth directly at his face. 

“I do like to believe I am not wrong about you.” His smile returned and Zenos placed a hand affectionately against her cheek. Instantly the simple gesture caused a memory to come crashing back into her mind. Once again fear flooded her, diffusing some of the rage she had built up.

“You didn't have to kiss me.” As soon as the words left her mouth she felt stupid. Verre had wanted to sound strong but she just sounded pathetic.

“Why? Did you not enjoy it?” He couldn't be serious.

“I was  _ DYING _ you sick bastard!”  _ Okay so shouting hurts, got it. _ Verre swatted his hand away from her face with the back of her own. Her control was slipping and he knew it.

“We could try again right now if you like.” His grin was so wide his teeth were showing now. If she was a stronger person Verre would have slapped him or thrown something straight at his face, but she was a weak idiot and the best she could manage was to turn away to hide her flushed face. 

“Fuck you.” she whispered.

Choosing to drive the knife in deeper, Zenos continued. “It seems that the scar on your chest has healed rather well.” He sounded so pleased with himself. “Does it make you think of how I defeated you our first meeting, every time you undress?” 

Verre looked down at herself and in horror she realized the scar was not visible in the modest shirt the medics had dressed her.  _ When did he _ … _? _ She had fought her emotions for so long in his presence but this was too much. Her eyes started to burn with hot tears.

“I'm done talking with you.” Her voice cracked and the bedding wrapped in her firsts had begun to tear.

Zenos chuckled as he stood up and brushed the wrinkles out of his clothes. “It was quite the pleasure speaking with you, my friend, however do not expect another visit from me while you are here. If I am to be quite honest with you, I find your current disposition rather repulsive. It disgusts me to see you little more than a broken animal incapable of defending itself. But I do look forward to seeing you again when you are recovered. Remember, pray you do not disappoint me.”

Zenos picked her weapon back up from the table he had placed them on earlier and dropped them at the foot of her bed. Without a second look at her, he turned and walked out the door, quite confident the injured warrior was too broken to raise them against him. As soon as the door clicked shut, all the tears and emotions she had fought back in his presence poured out of her.


	3. Choosing Confessions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Verre has to deal with her poor choices coming to light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter steps away from the first two and ties in with my overall story (multi WoLs) so I apologize if it is not what you are expecting. I promise the final chapter is more of what you came here for!

As she sat in the sand with her arms crossed over her knees, Verre watched the waves lazily rolling through the blue ocean water. The weather was mild, even the cool breeze coming in from the sea was only just enough to stir the wispy white hairs at the tip of her Viera ears. In the distance, a large ship slowly crept across the horizon. She had promised to set aside some time to spar with Traxis, at his request, but she was not motivated enough to start swinging her sword around without having him present.

As a result of her idle daydreaming, she did not hear her companion approach until he dropped his long coat into the sand next to her, causing her to jolt.

“I thought we were sparring?” When Verre looked up at him, Traxis was wearing a sleeveless black tank, already cycling through different stretching positions.

“Oh my gods we still are. You are so impatient, you literally just got here” she huffed. The warrior stood up, picking her katana out of the sand and brushing off the back of her legs. As she straightened, she took note of the Au-Ra’s weapon of choice. “What are you doing with that?” Verre was immediately embarrassed by how defensive the tone of her voice was. “Where's your greatsword?”

Traxis, finishing his current stretch, raised an eyebrow and looked thoroughly annoyed with her. “Perhaps you've forgotten, but I know how to use more than one weapon. I mastered the katana long before you ever touched one.” He drew the weapon from the scabbard with deadly grace and elegantly spun it in a small circle, moving only his wrist. 

Verre opened her mouth to defend herself but came up short. This didn't have to be a big deal unless she made it one. She readied her own katana, two hands together in front and planted her feet in the sand.

\------

“You have  _ got _ to stop holding your sword like it's trying to get away from you.” They were still in the middle of their bout but Traxis found the time to critique his partner anyway. Verre, startled by his words, flexed her fingers on the corded handle and realized just how cramped they were.

“I've just got a lot on my mind right now.” She furrowed her brow, annoyed by the criticism.

“Really? That sounds like a lie because you do it all the time. Maybe you should go back to using a lance if you're going to insist on holding it like that.” The distraction of the insult bought Traxis the opportunity to score a mark against her.

Verre sighed in frustration as she received the light hit and wrinkled her nose at the man's suggestion, remembering a time when she did actually use such a weapon. “Bleh. No way.”

“Watch it” the Au-Ra cautioned. It was no secret Traxis had a soft spot for Dragoons.

As their match in the sand pressed on, it grew more intense. Traxis noticed that Verre had started to throw her weight into her strikes more and more with every point he scored against her. She was frustrated, becoming reckless and aggressive in a way he was not used to seeing from her. After one particularly sloppy move accompanied by a loud frustrated growl, Traxis paused to address her. “What is wrong with you?”

“I'm sick of you getting all these hits on me!”

“It's just practice,” he shrugged. Verre knew he was only taking it so casually because he was winning.

“I want to be better at this!”

“Maybe you're not bad, maybe I'm just really good?” He was only half joking.

“That's not helping!” she snapped at him.

“What do you want me to say, Verre? We're literally training  _ right now _ . You either take it seriously and read my moves or realize that your life could be on the line and act like it! Those are your options.” He was annoyed now and in no mood to coddle her. “Now see if you can block this.” He lunged.

Traxis heard Verre gasp, except the cry was  _ so loud _ and sounded as if it came from both the person in front of him and inside his own head simultaneously. He skidded to a halt in confusion. His goal had been to strike her, but his vision had shifted in a way he could not make sense of. Instead of facing her head on, Traxis now saw Verre in profile, her focus no longer on him. That's when he saw the enormous length of metal protruding from her stomach.

In a panic he loosened his grip on the katana in his hand but it never made a sound to suggest it had fallen. Only after feeling it slip from his fingers did he realize he could not have been the one to deal the blow to his opponent.

_ An echo _ . The warrior had been so wrapped up in battle he had missed the telltale sign of it's oncoming. Fully focused on the entire scene before him now, Traxis nearly tripped backwards when he finally noticed the monstrous man at the edge of his periphery, his first instinct to dodge an incoming blow that never came.

_ What the fuck? What is this? _ Traxis was familiar with how the echo worked by now, having experienced it quite a few times. This  _ should _ be a vision of events passed, but the implication of what was before him couldn't be possible.

He looked back at his friend, feeling more helpless than he had ever felt in his life and grew nauseous. She was grasping uselessly at the wound, bloodying her hands on the blade as her panic rose.

When Zenos began to laugh, Traxis nearly blacked out with rage. Every muscle in his body was ready to tear the Garlean bastard into bloody shreds.

Zenos continued to talk with no regard for the viera who was fighting for her life, the way he seemed to be enjoying her suffering was sickening. The pair shifted slightly as Verre fell forward and when she cried out in pain the sound was like ice water washing over him.

The monster was in her face now and Traxis’ disgust was like a knot in his throat. Body shaking with uncontained rage, he wanted to  _ scream _ . Fingernails dug into his palm as he balled his fists in frustration, unable to lash out at anything corporeal. And _ still _ the monster got closer. When Traxis was sure he could not bear the disturbing intimacy of the scene any longer it was ended in an instant by a swift upward thrust of the katana. 

\-------

When his vision returned, Traxis found himself collapsed on his hands and knees in the sand. His skin felt damp with sweat and his heart was hammering in his chest. Protecting his friends was the single most important thing he fought for and just now he had seen one of his dearest friends seemingly die before his eyes.  _ But how? _ The echo does not lie, yet here she was in front of him, alive.

Even without looking up, he could sense Verre standing in the same place she had been a moment before he lost consciousness. She was looking at him with a mixture of fear and caution. Of course she knew he had just seen an echo. Familiar with them herself, she recognized his reaction immediately. When she finally broke the silence, her words were intense and cautiously measured. “...What did you see?” she asked despite knowing exactly what it was he saw. It was the same scene that had filled her own mind since they had begun sparring together. She desperately needed to know what he was thinking and how  _ much _ he saw.

“What… What happened…?” Traxis whispered to himself. His fingers were clawing at the sand beneath them, balling into fists. The more he tried to piece it together the less it made sense to him. “How did- When did this happen!?” he was nearly shouting, looking up at her now. “ _ WHAT HAPPENED!? _ ” 

“Tell me everything that you saw.” The defensive tone in her voice only managed to unsettle Traxis even further.

“ _ Zenos _ . He… hurt you! Why didn't you tell me Verre?! How did you get away from him? Who else knew about this? Was Estinien there with you? Why did you hide this!?” A million questions flooded his mind and there were still no answers. He felt so powerless having witnessed something he could do nothing to change.

“No, it was just me.” There was so much shame in her voice Traxis almost regretted yelling at her. Almost. She took a moment before she continued, trying to piece together exactly the best way to come clean. “When we were dealing with things on the First and we heard… he was back I… I wanted to know. I had to know for sure...” She knew her reasoning was weak but she needed to navigate the explanation while also revealing as little as she could about how her feelings were wrapped up in all this. “I guess I got too close tracking him down. I don't know how he knew where I was but he found me and… obviously things got violent.”

“He fucking  _ impaled _ you, Verre.” He was still fuming with rage but it was obvious he was hurt too. “I really just don't get it. It's not like you to run off on your own. And for what, to  _ verify  _ Estinien’s intel?” Traxis was starting to sound exhausted with his questioning and doubled back to the more important topic. “How did you get away from him?”

This was going to be the most difficult part for him to believe, but the truth was the truth. “He let me go. I  _ know _ it doesn't make sense but that's really it. I don't want to talk about it anymore, Traxis. I know I should be dead and I risked everything with a stupid decision. I think I learned my lesson.” She gestured to her abdomen with the snide remark. 

To his credit, Traxis was truly doing his best to understand what she was saying. He could admit all of the anger he was feeling was for Zenos, even if he had misdirected it at her in the moment. “Verre, that monster will be dead by my hand  _ soon _ , I  _ swear _ it. He will  _ never _ hurt anyone I care for.  _ Ever _ .  _ Again _ .” 

_ No _ . An irrational flash of jealousy gripped Verre's heart, an idea she wasn't ready to scrutinize just yet. Traxis’ combat skills were unparalleled. If they were to fight one on one, there was no doubt he would become the center of Zenos’ attention and Verre did not think she could bear it.

It was her turn to yell now. “You would  _ deny me _ the chance to get my revenge on him, after what you just saw?” She gestured angrily at the Au-Ra. She could not believe what he was saying. “How could you be so selfish!”

“Sorry, but yes, I would.” His reply sounded close to a threat, as if daring her to argue with his decision. “And you're lucky to even get a ‘sorry’ from me. You're clearly too reckless to trust with something this important.” There had never really been any doubt in his mind that he would be the one to end Zenos’ life, but apparently his friend thought otherwise.

“Fuck you, Traxis. You don't get to take that from me.” To her, there would be no compromise on that subject, regardless of what he believed. Deciding the interrogation was over she stormed away from the beach, leaving her friend behind.


	4. Set You Free

_ Traitorous fucking party trick _ . Verre slammed the door to her room and flopped onto the small single bed. The simple, undecorated apartment was somehow even less familiar to her than all of the various inns across Eorzea, but right now all she needed was a place to hide.

Flipping onto her back, the warrior of light stared at the swirling patterns of the wooden ceiling and measured her breathing.  _ Okaaayyy…okay. Things aren't so bad, right? Traxis gets mad all the time. He'll get over it. Plus, he's not mad  _ at  _ me, he's mad  _ for  _ me... Right? _

Verre had tried _so_ _hard_ to not think about the events reflected in the echo since they first happened, but here and now those scenes were all that filled her mind. As far as Traxis knew, she was the victim here. _That's all he saw. That's all he saw._

_ \-----  _ Earlier ----

Verre spent three long, dull days in that recovery bed. It was a lonely period of time for the Warrior of Light but solitude was preferable to any further visits from the man who put her in this situation. Willing herself to accept the hospitality was a mental battle she struggled with every hour of the day. On one hand, she was vulnerable and alone in enemy territory, but on the other, she was being cared for and protected as she healed. Early on she had considered assisting in the healing process with her white magic, but after seeing the various tubing and wires protruding from her core she decided her interference may only complicate things. 

Wandering thoughts occasionally considered the idea of simply teleporting home. Those guilt laden moments of realization stretched on for an eternity, twisting her stomach into knots. The simple inaction felt treasonous. It would be so easy to leave this place, and yet she didn't. But then again, getting herself in this situation hadn't been for entirely altruistic reasons to begin with. Verre rationalized that she should seize the opportunity to learn more about the opposition while in their care, seeing as how it wasn't likely she would be making such a reckless choice again.

Thankfully, very few other Imperials came by during her stay. There was someone to bring her food, someone to bring her fresh clothes, and the medicus. This Garlean woman was the only person Verre had willingly spoken to during her stay, as she spent far more time in her care than with the others. She was a serious faced older woman who worked efficiently, respectfully checking on her wounds and the assorted foreign machines she was connected to throughout the day, many of the actions fascinating the warrior of light in their foreignness.

Surprising both of them, Verre quickly caved into her loneliness and initiated conversation by the second morning. Throughout the day she found it relaxing to watch the attentive way the medicus tended to various aspects of her well being. Eventually the warrior felt compelled to commend her caretaker’s skill, as it was an honorable thing for her to serve her people regardless of which side she fought for. Though Verre carefully navigated sensitive subjects the conversation opened up she found herself admitting that she too had learned healing arts after losing someone important to her. Thankfully the subject didn't linger and they moved onto a dialogue of mutual appreciation for the vastly different techniques the other side used.

Verre knew it was a dangerous choice to open up to the imperial woman but she did her best to avoid any further substantial topics, such as exactly who she was or why she was important enough to be taken care of as an honored guest of the prince. For her part, the medicus didn't pry much either. Such discretion and loyalty were probably contributing factors as to why she of all the medicus on the battlefield was chosen to care for her.

Each day, her strength returned more and more. Boredom was fought off with stretching routines and feeble walks around the bedside, injuries and machinery permitting. After what felt like an eternity, the medicus declared she would no longer require the machinery to heal and with that knowledge her excuses for remaining in enemy territory ran dry. Though it was only three days, for someone unused to idleness it was nothing short of mindnumbing torture. When she was on her feet, the woman directed her to the locker containing her personal effects. The familiar smell of her soft leather dancers coat flooded her with homesickness she hadn’t felt until that moment. Gently dressing her weakened body in her own garments she began to feel like herself again, the warrior of light who belonged to Eorzea.

The mechanical sound Verre had grown to know as the automatic door opening whirred behind her.

“Are we all recovered then? Is my broken bird ready to fly away home?”

That voice made her blood run cold. As soon as she spun around and saw him, Verre hated herself for having let her guard fall so completely. She had truly believed him when he said he would not return.

“No! I'm not ready!” she panicked, sliding along the wall away from the doorway further into the room. Did he mean to fight with her  _ now _ ? It embarrassed her to show so much anxiety in his presence but suddenly her chance of getting to go home felt at risk. Hardly a fraction of her strength had returned, despite the recovery time. Her chakrams were still within reach but they were useless without the stamina to wield them.

Zenos eyed her curiously, frowning. “No need for the pathetic display, I do not intend to keep you here. Ahh.. you may think that I am not particularly good at keeping my promises as I did say I would not be returning, do forgive me for that.” The smirk on his face implied his remorseful words were far from genuine. He stepped further into the room, once again making the small space overwhelmingly too intimate. The Garlean prince gestured to his guest, suggesting she sit and make herself comfortable for a moment. She didn't. “If I am to be perfectly honest, the thought of you being so nearby has consumed my mind these past few nights. Now your stay here is coming to an end, it may be some time before you return to me. I wished to see you off.” 

Verre glanced at the medicus, both embarrassed to have any witness to this private conversation while also looking for someone to save her from the torture of having to speak with him again. Without making eye contact with her patient, the older woman bowed to the prince and rapidly left the room without a word. Such unwavering loyalty. Zenos must have been receiving constant updates from the woman regarding the improving condition of his guest, as well as the fact that she was about to leave. It was so obvious, Verre felt stupid for even being surprised by the realization.

“Why are you here?” she sighed, barely a whisper, willing him away with every fiber of her being.

Zenos looked perturbed. “Do I truly need any other reason for a visit? You are endlessly fascinating to me and I am curious about your well being. I trust you have healed sufficiently.” He paused. “May I see the scar?” He smiled at her with narrowed eyes, teasing. His fingers brushed against the clothing at her waist and she jumped out of reach of his touch.

Mild nausea washed over the dancer at the idea of baring her skin to the same person who injured her in the first place. “ _ No _ .” Her tone left very little room for argument. She was surprised and grateful when he didn't press the issue.

Zenos took a moment to analyze her defensive body language. “Captivity most certainly does not suit you. I've seen nothing but timidity from you as of late and it is most insufferable.” Verre was flabbergasted.  _ I'm the insufferable one!? “ _ I wonder where all that boldness has gone to that you showed at the menagerie? ‘ _ I accept you _ ’ were the words you used, I believe?” 

Surely her face was red because she could feel the radiating heat on her skin, a mixture of anger and embarrassment both. How  _ dare _ he mock her for that? It was for his sake that she had been so vulnerable in that moment, thinking she could reach through to him and possibly change their ill fated course. Clearly any future expressions of empathy would be wasted on him.

“Zenos, I want to leave.” It was less a request than a pathetic plea. “These conversations are a waste of both of our time.”

He was less than a yalm away from her now. Leaning in to speak to her in a more intimate manner, she could feel his breath against her cheek. “Then why are you still here, Verre?” 

She gasped audibly and looked into his eyes. “You… know my name?” 

He looked genuinely hurt, which surprised her further. “Why would I not?”

Verre fought the urge to defend herself as he lifted a large hand toward her head. Fingers curled into her hair at the base of one ear. The viera’s skin prickled with tension as the massive hand softly stroked upwards, testing the soft delicateness of her long, furred ear. The gesture would have been intimate in any other situation but having such a fragile part of her in the grip of a violent unpredictable monster could never be considered relaxing. The Garlean seemed to be analyzing her face, which unsettled her deeply. Tugging slightly on the ear he tilted her head back so she was facing him better. Not even if she had all the time in the world could she begin to understand the thoughts that may be running through his mind, this moment or any other. Surely he hadn't noticed the loss of color in her eyes? He continued to scrutinize her face with a small frown. The thought of him possibly noticing something as subtle as her light-bleached eyes filled her chest with that familiar tightness, but the feeling was chased away as he continued to speak. “Such a curious beast you are,” he mused, his intense stare replaced with something adjacent to affection, fascination lighting his own pale eyes. 

In his presence, Verre had held back nearly every reaction he tried to draw from her, but she would be damned if she let him refer to her in such a degrading manner. The moment he finally released her ear from his grasp, she punched him in the jaw.

Unfortunately, it wasn't as strong of a punch as she would have liked. She would have preferred to hit him square on, but he was just too damned tall. Zenos caught her wrist just a moment too late and her fist managed to connect hard enough to knock his head back. Returning his gaze to her, she saw a rekindled fire in his eyes that made her regret the action immediately. However, instead of lashing out in retaliation as she expected him to, he startled her by raising her hand to his lips and running the tip of his bloodied tongue across her knuckles. An embarrassing gasp escaped her as she panicked and tried to pull the arm free, but he held on tightly. The prince finished the action with a kiss to her palm and sighed, “Oh how  _ boring _ things will be without you here.”

This was all too much for the warrior of light. She jerked backwards, determined to put distance between them even as he held her wrist. She was dismayed to discover there was far less space behind her than she realized and the back of her legs knocked against the bedside table, sending assorted items clattering to the floor. Verre felt foolish as she realized the prince yet remained in place, calmly amused by her fumbling even as his eyes shone bright and feral.

“Oh, do not tell me it is tenderness that scares you?” He laughed in her face even as he towered over her. A small step towards the withdrawn warrior had his body nearly pressed against her own.

“I'm  _ not _ afraid of you,” she hissed viciously through her teeth, unflinching at his closeness. “I don't want you to  _ touch _ me,” she punctuated the words by finally snatching her wrist from his control.

“And yet for all your impudent ferocity, I don't believe that's true.” His smile was wicked. “Are you under the impression that I simply did not notice every moment of your hesitation in my presence? I am rather fluent in the language of both fear and rage, my friend, and what I see in you is not that. Did you believe I do not see every time your face flushes when we speak, or that you hold your breath when I draw near? More often than not you refuse to even look at me, which makes little sense for someone clearly well versed in combat tactics in the presence of a threat.” His grin exposed perfect white teeth, clearly enjoying the moment of being able to hold a mirror to his enemy. “Before you waste your words to tell me how  _ wrong _ I am, and how you  _ despise _ me so, let us imagine for a moment that what I am saying is the truth. There will be no better opportunity than the present to capitalize on that feeling that is surely consuming you. Understand that I will  _ not _ give you such a chance next time we meet.”

The warrior of light gaped, argument dying on her tongue before it could pass her lips. “I.. I.... No I can't.” She wasn't even sure what she was denying but she had to keep fighting because that was the only way she knew how to interact with him.

“You can't? I find it hard to believe that there is anything the indomitable eikon slayer cannot do. Perhaps you are too accustomed to existing solely for the benefit of others? I would wager you cannot remember the last time you did anything solely for your own pleasure.” His words sparked traumatic memories she had locked away in the deepest corners of her mind. With practiced expertise she smothered them before they could come forward but the pain in her chest lingered. Zenos continued, unaware of her internal plight. “The truth is that you simply allow the concerns of those beneath you to direct your choices. The savages of Eorzea might hold you to some ridiculous higher standard but I would not think to judge you for chasing a single moment of selfish interest.” His expression grew serious. “One's life holds no meaning at all if we live only by the will of others. You are not being honest and I grow tired of this game we have been playing dancing around these lies of yours.”

“I don't owe you my honesty.” The strength in her voice had waned completely now.

“As much as that is an admission in its own right, if not for me, you at least owe it to yourself, Verre.” His fingers curled through the ends of her hair idly.

Verre took a shaky breath, not sure if she was brave enough to give voice to the words in her mind but he was right. This dance was exhausting and the longer it dragged on the more ridiculous and childish she felt. She needed to end this. “Every time I pick up a weapon, Zenos, I think of you.” She hoped he did not notice how much she was trembling. “I see you in every enemy that stands before me. Every time my skills improve, I only think of how you will be pleased with me. I never took pleasure in combat until  _ you _ became my end goal. Every step forward, I take because I know it is leading me to you.” The truth was out but there was no weight lifted from her conscious, only a tightened knot in her stomach. The admission felt like suicide, a complete and thorough betrayal of everyone she loved and everything she fought for. The words were free now and they could never be taken back.

In his eyes she found nothing to settle her unease. His face was as expressionless as she had ever seen it. She had finally given him what he wanted, why couldn't the bastard at least smile at her? Verre raised a hand hesitantly and it hovered between them, unsure of what she even meant to do with it. Even without contact she could feel the tension radiating off of him. Had he ever allowed anyone to touch him in such a way? Nothing would thrill her more than placing her fingers against his broad chest to feel the beat of his heart or to discover the softness of his perfect golden hair, but she couldn't bring herself to go through with it. While it would be a step towards the intimacy she craved with him, it was far too soft a gesture for someone as monstrous as him. “I don't know how to do this”, and admitted, wound tight with frustration. “We're not lovers, Zenos. You don't deserve  _ any _ kindness from me…” the statement almost ended there, but a confession she needed to vocalize followed. “...But feeling this way about you feels like the first choice I've made for myself in a  _ long _ time. I want this more than anything, I just can't find the middle ground. I don't believe there is one.”

Verre didn't feel very strong in that moment, but there was some small victory in the fact that at least her enemy also seemed to be off balance. The confidence he usually wore so effortlessly was gone, but so was the anger. Surely this was uncharted territory for him as well and it was his turn to consider their tangled, hopeless situation. For all her internal struggle, he was just as lost as she was in this temporary truce.

For the first time ever she was grateful when he spoke and ended the silence between them. “I have asked for neither your kindness nor your love. It is enough knowing that all of your beautiful violence belongs to me.”

His kiss was indelicate, unpracticed and domineering. Even this supposedly tender action was treated as a battle to be won, but fighting him was something she knew how to do. His mouth tasted like blood, yet she was grateful for the reminder of the monster he truly was.


End file.
